Gravity Falls: The Mothman Chronicles
by Dalukes
Summary: 18-year-old Dipper Pines returns to Gravity Falls once more before college only to find himself caught up in another mystery. Recent sightings of a strange flying humanoid have left the town not only restless, but hungry for answers. Dipper-centric. May contain hints of Wendip. Strong T. More detailed description inside.
1. Welcome Back - Part 1

Description:

The Mothman Chronicles follows a now 18-year-old Dipper and Mabel Pines as they return to Gravity Falls for their fourth summer. However, no summer really followed up on the adventure the first one was. None were really as dangerous, terrifying, or fun. They were all just boring, normal summers.

However, recent sightings of a strange flying humanoid have left the town not only restless but hungry for answers. They immediately turn to the Pine Tree detective from Piedmont, Gable Orion "Dipper" Pines, Junior. As the sightings of this "Mothman" increase, so do the disasters around town. Branching anywhere from small mishaps at the convenience store to the death of Gravity Falls Deputy Dirk Durland, these disasters blow Dipper away, each with a sighting of this dark nightwatcher. Eventually, the monster rears it's expressionless head at the Mystery Shack, and Dipper deems the deed to be the creature's last straw - before he and his family are potentially hurt in the process.

Also: this may be my last novel written for this site. I'm gonna put a lot of time into it, so be warned. Also, Wendip. Not, like, lovey-Dovey fluffy, but there's hints because they're both at that flirty age. There is some gore, but it's not huge. More like implied.

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* * *

Late in the night, the deputy's car sped down the Oregonian highway as an open moon stared down silently. It was another day of work for Gravity Falls Police Department Deputy Dirk Durland, and he intended to get home quickly. He was missing Hallmark time with Derrick Blubs.

The empty midnight road felt like an abyss underneath the trooper's car. The dark forest around him pushed him away with invisible arms, and he gladly accepted the repelling, knowing what crazy and unthinkable things hid out in that forest after the events of three years ago. His eyes drooped wearily and he snapped himself awake, careful not to crash into anything in doing so.

Whoosh.

His eyes caught a black figure out of his peripheral vision, forcing his foot down on the brake immediately. Highway speeds slowed into a grinding stop with the sound of tortured brakes as two thick, black streaks extended down the blacktop for at least fifty feet. Dazed, Durland climbed out of his seat, hand hovering over his pistol.

"Hello?" He asked, car still running in the middle of the highway. It didn't matter; nobody drove down this old highway anyway. It wouldn't be a problem.

He raised his communicator up to his mouth and clicked. "Blubs, I've seen somethin' sketchy. It done messed with the car. I'm gonna go scout it out."

Static replayed for a few seconds. After a while, the worried tone of the Gravity Falls sheriff, Derrick Blubs, relayed through. "Okay, Durland. Be safe. You remember the drill with weird things."

"Yeah, yeah, don't shoot unless provokoded." He twanged back, not audible on the communicator due to him not pressing it on.

He flicked on his flashlight from his back pocket, holding it carefully as he turned around. Slowly approaching the edge of the highway and the concrete barrier that prevented cars from destroying themselves and the protected Oregon forest, the officer stood and searched the perimeter. Nothing was to be found but a concerned raccoon in the branches of a tree off the side of the highway. Sighing, he flicked off the torch and made his way back to his car from the side of the road.

"Blubs," he radioed back into the station. "It was nothing. Nevermind."

Whoosh.

A large figure slammed against the roof of the vehicle with the force of a falling ton. Glass shattered in all directions as Durland was thrown to the ground, shielding his eyes. Cries of the destroyed vehicle lasted for only a few seconds, distorted and warped in a horrid fashion.

"Durland?"

Landing on his rear, he had clicked the communicator. It relayed ever sound back to the police center back in central Gravity Falls.

Durland opened his eyes carefully, scared. "W-who's that?"

The last thing he ever saw was a hulking figure on top of the shattered car, staring blankly.

And red.

"Durland? DUUUURLAAAAAAND!"

* * *

"Welcome back to Gravity Falls!"

Eighteen-year-old "Dipper" Pines had always thought the sign above Gravity Falls was weird. It was as if the simple town already knew that the people arriving had been there before. He'd have thought it more odd if he hadn't known the secrets that lie in wait inside the deep forests and trees surrounding the logging community.

As his silver sedan passed through unparalleled in the Oregon highway, he took time to admire the scenery. It had been two years since his last adventure in Gravity Falls, and six since his first. Every summer had been memorable, but none just as memorable as the first summer. It almost left him saddened. Defeating a sadistic, dapper, Masonic dream demon in his conquest of all things weird and unsettling would do that to you.

He had made the drive all in one day from his suburban town of Piedmont, California all the way out into the sticks. He had started out in the middle of the night, which, to a hardcore studying student like Dipper Pines, was no big deal at all. In fact, only his twin sister Mabel had decided to decline. Of course, she was busy with college at UCLA, while his online classes from West Coast Tech allowed him to take classes anywhere that had wi-fi.

Which made him equally glad he had set up a wi-fi connection to his great uncle's home two years ago.

He lowered his window, taking a deep breath of the summer breeze rolling quickly past his car. The orange sun appeared beautiful underneath the sherbet skies and deep pine trees.

"Gravity Falls." He restated aloud.

He spied a wreck off to the side of the highway. Slowing down and squinting to get a better look in the face of the glaring sun, he noticed it looked like it had rolled multiple times. A streak of red lined itself from the wreck to the tree line.

"Ugh." He grunted, acknowledging what must have been a horrid sort of wreck before spying the turnoff that led to the famous Mystery Shack. It was hard to miss; the giant billboard that now graced the treeline invited every passerby to enjoy 'Wonders! Mystery! Won-tery!'

He couldn't help but laugh as he turned up into the dirt road. Soos really had left his mark on the old tourist trap.

The seemingly endless, uphill drive reminded him of his first drive on this road years ago. Of course, a hulking gnome-creature hellbent on marrying his twin sister was throwing trees at them from a few feet behind his wonderingly fast golf cart, but that made little difference to him. It was just that old Gravity Falls magic.

Over the hilltop, the pitched roof of the Mystery Shack became visible. A smile graced his face as he pulled in, parking not-so-subtly next to an old 50s sedan. The Stanleymobile still ran, surprisingly.

Exiting his more recent car, Dipper hardly had time to lock it before he was bear-hugged by the not-so-new owner of the tourist attraction.

"Dude!" The voice bellowed with laughter, "I didn't think you'd be here this summer!"

Dipper laughed heartily. "Soos! I thought I told you I was taking online classes?"

He was released and met with the portly man. Jesús Ramirez hadn't changed much since the last time Dipper had seen him, two years ago. In fact, he had changed little from the first time, back in 2012, that Dipper had seen the man. Now, in 2018, Soos' typical black two-piece suit and mackerel fez graced his appearance—as did a golden ring.

Dipper gave him a big smile. "So you really did propose, huh?"

Soos scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, dude. She was like—" he accentuated Melody Green-Ramirez' expression the day he proposed by clutching his cheeks and producing the most happy look the man-baby could provide.

Dipper grinned from ear to ear. "Good to see that. Why didn't you call me? You'd been dating for four and a half years, you think you'd tell me when something like this happened."

"Oh, just a few months ago, dude." Soos admitted, "It was really hard. I've never proposed to anyone before, so it was a new experience for me. I was really uncomfortable. We're getting the marriage done next this August. Hey, that reminds me. Are you staying this entire summer? I mean, you just kinda popped outta nowhere, Dipper-Dude."

Dipper raised a calming hand, asking for silence. "Yeah, I'll be here all summer. I could stay longer, but I'd rather go back to full school at WCTU before the semester ends."

Soos nodded knowingly. He'd never gone to college, but his profession didn't need a college diploma. Especially when Stanley Pines directly passed the torch to you.

The door of the Shack flew open again, this time producing two older men. One, Stanley Pines, was pushing roughly against the other twin, Stanford Pines. Scuffing and squabbling, they roughed against each other until they stood in front of Dipper, still fighting loudly.

"I was gonna see him first, Lee–"

"Oh yeah, so you could corrupt him with the science -"

"Corrupt? Stanley, you're the felon!"

"Dead men can't speak, Ford!"

Dipper coughed loudly, earning their attention. "Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford. It's nice to see you."

An awkward silence grew between the three as the two great uncles silently asked which one was going to greet their nephew first. Irritated, Stanley slapped his brother on the back, sending Ford stumbling a few feet forward. He greeted Dipper with an awkward smile and an outstretched six-fingered hand.

"Greetings, Dipper. It's nice to see you again."

Dipper took the hand, smiling. "Two years is too long, Grunkle Ford. When I didn't hear from you in a few months, I was sure you'd somehow killed yourself."

A hearty laugh emanated from the older man. "Ha! Takes a lot to kill the Pines. You of all people should know that by now, Dipper my boy!"

A wrinkled hand appeared on the scientist's shoulder, and he stepped back, letting Stanley approach the young man. He sized his great nephew up and down, raising a hand to his own head before leveling it off with Dipper's. The young man was now the same height as the older man.

"I think I shrunk." He bluntly gruffed, taking the boy in for a tight hug.

"I, uh, don't think that's it, Grunkle Stan," Dipper coughed, patting his beloved Grunkle's back before releasing himself.

"What college did you go to?" The ex-conman asked.

Dipper laughed, stealing a look towards Ford. "West Coast Tech, Grunkle Stan."

The man laughed heartily, clapping his hand on his shoulder. "Great choice, Dipper. Now you're officially better than Poindexter over there."

Instead of getting offended, Stanford kept his guise of stoical toughness and clapped his six fingered hands incessantly. "Good job, Dipper! What's your major?"

"Oh," Dipper gasped, pulling out his phone and checking. "Just some literary and English sciences. Nothing too big."

"The Little Dipper's gonna be an author?" Soos said, appearing behind Stanford.

Dipper nodded proudly. "The Pines are gonna have a novelist in the family."

"Mystery novels?" His scientific-minded great uncle inquired as he led him back to the Shack.

"Of course," Dipper answered, stepping inside at last, "What else would I do?"

* * *

The old receptor television had long ago been swapped out for a nicer television. The house still belonged to Stanley and Stanford, but Soos had recently moved in as well. A small shack housing four people wasn't the most convenient, but Soos had already expressed thoughts on Melody and himself moving to a nearby location that was for sale.

The beligerent old man had gratefully taken that with a "Yes, please."

The five sat around the television, multiple pieces of ordered pizza laying in the boxes uneaten. Soos and Melody were reclining on the couch, happily taking in their surrogate family simply talk.

Stanford and Dipper were having a spirited conversation about West Coast Technical College. Stanley sat the odd man out, occasionally saying something stupid to return the focus of why Dipper was here.

To have fun before college _really_ started.

"Where's Wendy?" Dipper asked offhandedly, blushing hard after he realized that his thoughts were audible. He turned, horrified, only to find a calmed Stanley and a smiling Stanford.

"We called her a few minutes ago. She's racing back from Oregon State. She says you called her about coming, but she didn't think you'd be here until June 13th." Stanford relayed, looking towards a nodding Soos for confirmation.

"Yeah, dude. Don't be embarrassed. It's not weird anymore." Soos told him, clutching Melody tightly. "I mean, it was a weird crush, until we all figured out that it lasted these five years."

"Stop it." Dipper fought back, face crimson. "I'm just curious, that's all."

"That's what they all say..." Stanley said, voice hardly audible as he leaned back, feigning focus on the television. The room laughed, including Dipper. Of course, he didn't come to Gravity Falls because Wendy was there. She was studying law at Oregin State; something she'd set her eyes on since mid-high school. She was brilliant. Of course, he'd known that, but every teacher in the Gravity Falls didn't seem to care about the Lumberjack Princess of Gravity Falls whose trapper hat still graced Dipper's head.

"What about Mabel, dog?" Soos asked after the laughter had died down.

"Oh, she's coming later." Dipper answered. "She's still got some papers to do at UCLA, but she should come mid-summer."

"Ah, a night's dream." Melody cooed, longing for a chance to see her 'sister-in-awesome' as Soos called her. Of course, Soos wasn't related to the Pines Twins, but the two had always referred to him as a cousin. To the point where Mabel said she'd tell her kids to call him 'Uncle Soos'.

Soos liked that idea.

A news report suddenly blazed across the previously quiet television screen. A news reporter, dressed in her typical navy blue vest and white undershirt, stared deeply into the screen. The room quieted suddenly, as if hitting a brick wall. Shock graced all of their faces.

"Hi. I'm Shandra Jimenez of Gravity Falls News Station 4. I'm here with Sheriff Blubs to discuss the accident that happened earlier. Blubs?"

Dipper noticed that they were at the scene of the crash he saw when he drove in. His mouth opened in shock involuntarily. On screen stood a very stressed and very saddened Sheriff Derrick Blubs. His portly figure sagged with grief as he took off his sunglasses. Dipper had never seen his eyes before, but now they were reddened and full of...

...fear?

"What happened?" Shandra asked, pointing the microphone she held towards the sheriff, who was now taking off his hat. The cameras zoomed in on him.

"Gravity Falls," he sniffed, his deep voice grumbling. "Deputy Dirk Durland... has been killed."

There was a silence on-screen and in the room as the picture of the late Dirk Durland was shown hanging around town with Sheriff Blubs.

"I-I arrived on-scene," Blubs mumbled, grief striking him, "to find his mangled body dragged towards the trees. Us here in Gravity Falls know there's a lotta weird stuff out in those woods, but that doesn't look like anything I've ever seen. In the trees, I saw... this."

A depiction of a hulking, humanoid creature graced the screen. Dipper shuddered in fear as the black creature seemed to rest on top of trees as it's unrealistically large wings blocked the sky. It's wingspan was easily three or four times its' height, impressive for a five to six foot creature. It had no arms, but horribly clawed feet that gripped an elm branch so tight it splintered wood.

But what chilled Dipper the most was the eyes.

The creature had no face, but two beady red eyes that stared into oblivion with no emotion.

As Blubs broke down offscreen from fear, sadness, or both, Shandra looked gravely into the cameras once again. "We will now place the audio of Durland's last moments-"

The TV clicked off. Everyone in the room, shocked at the event, turned and looked slowly at Ford, who turned off the television. His eyes stared, horrified, into the black screen.

"It's a Mothman."


	2. Welcome Back - Part 2

**WR DQ XQVWRSSDEOH FUHDWXUH VWDULQJ KLP GRZQ**

* * *

The green pickup zoomed down the dirt road with speeds easily over what she knew Blubs and Durland would have allowed. Her right arm hung out of the driver-side window, bottom of her arm burning on the hot metal. She was a Corduroy, though; this didn't hurt her in the slightest. She was used to it by now.

The twenty-one year old redhead bachelorette from the sticks had easily made a name for herself back at Oregon State. Law practice was something she didn't even know Oregon State had - and maybe they didn't. After the things she's experienced, she wouldn't be surprised if the whole college experience was just a dream. Or a nightmare.

However, she was a woman on a mission. Images and thoughts of a certain previously-sixteen curious boy from California filled her head. She had talked with Dipper previously, about a week before, and he had expressed plans to drive down to Gravity Falls at some point during the summer. She just didn't know when.

The conversation had been short, a mere segment of a longer talk about how much high school sucked in comparison to state college, but it had dealt with the basics of Dipper's arrival in the fact that he'd drive there himself some day in the morning. It didn't give her much to go off of.

Then again, not telling her he was coming was something only Dipper Pines would do. He wouldn't want her to get anxious when there was schooling to be had. He was the studious type, after all.

Passing the afternoon sun, Wendy turned down the dirt road towards the path she had cleared herself towards Soos' Mystery Shack. It was a little bumpy, but that was to be expected coming from a girl who literally just hacked her way through a forest. It took her three years, yeah, but at least she had something to do in the year that the Pines twins didn't show up.

She scowled at herself. She didn't want to think of their absence as their fault, especially with high school being a thing and all. Sighing, she settled that it had been nice to have them race over from Piedmont to watch her graduate. At least the had cared that much to watch the so-called dunce get a degree. She still remembered their happy faces when she walked off of the podium.

Mabel's bright smile... Dipper's enthusiastic grin... his eyes...

Wait, what was that?

She slowed down, her lumberjack-trained eyes noticing movement in the woods to her left. It wasn't unusual to find bears in the part of the woods she was in, but whatever she had seen was not a bear. It almost looked human; ape-like in appearance despite only glancing at it in her peripherals.

Whoosh.

The truck bed shuddered and lurched as her rear-view mirror was suddenly overtaken by furry void. She turned around, hardly able to get a cry out before a shrill cry echoed throughout the forests.

Kicking her door open, Wendy scrambled out, clutching her hatchet closely. The creature stood at least five feet tall, with wings that stretched ten feet from either side of the truck bed. The front wheels slowly started to rise off the ground as the creature turned to look at her, plane wings retracting back to its chest and making it look more owl-like in appearance.

Frozen in shock and fear, Wendy held her hatchet out in protection. The creature opened its two blank, pasty red eyes and made no sound. The only sound heard was the flowing of the wind through the downy feathers of the creature's wings.

Suddenly, without warning, the wings exploded from its sides, taking a big fore stroke in the air before launching itself from the bed of the truck into the sky. The truck shuddered from the force, but did not seem destroyed. Wendy, still standing still, watched the black figure fly off in confusion before scurrying back to her truck.

Good thing Dipper was here.

* * *

Everyone stared back at the older scientist, looks of confusion and worry plastered onto their faces.

"What's a Mothman, dude?" Soos spoke everyone's opinion aloud.

Dipper took the liberty of explaining as he stood up and began pacing the living room, all eyes on him. "It's an old myth dating back to the mid-1900s in Point Pleasant, West Virginia. There was this black flying thing that appeared a bunch of times, a lot around this one old bridge, and then stopped completely once the bridge fell down. They call it a bringer of bad news, like a prophet or something."

"The prophet of death..." Stan mumbled, taking in the image of what the Mothman looked like once again. "Just looks like an overgrown owl to me."

Ford shook his head. "No, Stanley. This is the real deal."

Everyone simultaneously turned to the older scientist, who held his chin in his palm. "You see, I've seen these before. The one at Point Pleasant all these years ago is only the more well-known of its kind. Yes, they do bring doom. In fact, I've known a few to be murderous in intent, like this one.

"But they're everywhere. Remnants of an old curse from who knows how long ago. Some say they're accursed owls; victims of poor circumstance. But I know what they really are."

A long silence occurred as the four took in Ford's words.

"Well... are you gonna tell us?" Stan's gruffly impatient voice rang out.

"It's a demon. Like Bill." Ford finished, glaring at Stan. "I had to recollect my thoughts for a second. We are old, Stanley."

The scientist sighed as he continued. "My research has been heavily limited, though. I've only seen one or two of them in my entire anomaly search back in the seventies and early eighties. On top of that, I hadn't engaged in a fight with or killed one, so I don't know it's anatomy or its skill set. Instead I just watched and noted what I found in the second journal."

Dipper grew worried. "But Bill burned the second journal five years ago."

Stanford gave the young man a sad look. "I'm afraid all of my knowledge on the Mothman burned with it, Dipper my boy. All I knew was documented in those journals, and my memory isn't too accurate these days."

"Hah!" Stan chided from across the room. "Neither is your intelligence! I'll have you know I beat him in chess the other day!"

"That's because you glued my pawns to the chessboard with rubber cement, you imbecile." Ford shot back.

As Stan crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out childishly at Ford, the entry door flung open. Into the living room ran a rather pale-looking young woman, dressed in red flannel and some scratched up tumbling jeans. She spied Dipper within seconds.

"Wendy–!" Before the young man could even greet her properly, she flung her arms around him, breathing hard. Dipper's face grew red hot as he checked around the confused family members.

"Uh... hi? Wendy?"

"Oh!" She flew off, her face burning as well. "Yeah. Good to see ya, Dipstick, but I've already got a problem."

Dipper crossed his arms, confusion melting away and being replaced by a snide grin. There would be a time for reintroductions later. "Like always. Shoot."

She rubbed her temple. "I was driving over here as fast as I could, and I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I got out to check it out, and it landed in the bed of my truck. Luckily, the darn thing didn't break it... then I would've really killed it."

Dipper's eyes widened as he thought. Truck, huh? "Wendy, what did this thing look like?"

She nodded her head. "It was about five feet tall, had these huge wings, and freaking scary red eyes." She recrossed her arms, trying to hide just how scared she was. Corduroys were never scared. "Not that they were scary to me, though."

Dipper nodded. "Wouldn'ta thunk it. Ford?"

The older man nodded. "Yup. Sounds like a Mothman to me."

Despite being confused and raising an eyebrow, Wendy decided not to question. Dipper would give her the full story eventually. "So... what do we do about it?"

"I don't know." Dipper returned to his thinking pose. "It's not like we know what this thing wants. Wendy, have you heard of the death of Deputy Durland?"

She shook her head, surprise and worry on her face. "No, I haven't. I feel bad now, though. Why?"

Dipper pointed to the television with a grim look. "Ford and I think this Mothman is related to the death of Durland. It makes sense, too, since it looks like it's attacking cars. It smashed Durland's car and went after your truck, right?" He earned a nod of affirmation from the older lumberjack.

He turned, rubbing his temples in thought. "Hm... I'll have to give this some thought. I don't know if we should do anything, though, considering it hasn't really done anything more than those two incidents."

"It did kill Durland, though," Soos pointed out from the couch, "and that's enough for me to think we need to do something about it, dawg."

Dipper sighed, admitting that fact. "Then whatever it takes, we get rid of this Mothman and get it to leave before it does anything else to this town."

Soos held a hand to his forehead in a sudden salute as he left the couch. "Aye aye, captain Dipper!" Melody followed suit before too long, and Ford jokingly held his hand to his forehead as well.

"Ah, what the hell." Stan stood up also, giving a certain type of salute alongside his militaristic one.

Dipper felt a firm hand on his shoulder. "So what's the plan, Captain?" Wendy asked, voice dripping with character.

Blushing, Dipper pushed his arm off before he refocused the group. "First thing tomorrow, I'll go looking for the thing and document what I find. Wendy, I'm gonna need you to come along. You know these woods like nobody else. Great Uncle Ford, I'd like to keep in touch with you in case something goes wrong. You and Stan are the backup. And Soos..."

The tubby man approached. "Yeah, Dippy-dood?"

"Don't call me that—and I'm gonna need an awesome truck."

The former handyman tightened his hat. "My time has come."

* * *

That night, Lucy Chamberlain whistled her way through the aisles at the local convenience store as she restocked the shelves full of cereals and candy bars. Her iPod had died hours ago, and since her boss was a stickler, she wasn't allowed to bring a charger.

"Stinky old man," she cursed from her spot in the corner of the store. Suddenly, a loud bang exploded through the otherwise silent night. She froze in fear—she'd never dealt with a bear before. The sound had emanated from where a stand of fruit was set up for the next night. A tarp had covered the fresh produce in a half-assed attempt to keep the food fresh and safe from varmints throughout the night before the next morning.

Slowly, she crept around the freshly-restocked aisles and peered from the corner. At first, she only saw a few apples and gourds tossed carelessly to the dirt ground. They were only visible through the light from the inside of the store.

But then, she made out a figure - a rather short, yet stocky dark figure was facing away from her. Remembering her training the boss had given her in case of a bear encounter, she grabbed the broom by the sled-service desk and slid the glass doorway open.

She yelled loudly, gaining its attention. What she saw was not a bear, however.

It was two beaming red eyes.

* * *

 **And so episode one of The Mothman Chronicles completes itself – and the plot is thus set into motion. Will Dipper and Wendy find the Mothman, or will it find them first? What of Dipper and Wendy's feelings? Have they changed since the first summer, or is there a better time to discuss feelings than staring down the eyes of a demon? Speaking of demons, what of the Mothman itself? Is it all that it seems? And what of this store encounter? You bet a certain pine tree will be interested in that story...**

 **Until then, the eyes on the wall watch..**

 **Oh, and also, lemme know if you want this story to evolve into Wendip. Pacifica will have a presence, but it will be minor. As will Mabel.**


	3. Research

A shirtless Dipper munched thoughtfully on his cereal as he listened to the faded voice of Shandra Jimenez speak aimlessly about small happenings in the small town. A stray beam of otherwise uncharacteristic Oregonian sunlight struck his spoon next to him on his great uncle's dinner table and caused him to squint annoyedly before he brushed it off.

A few thumps signified the entry of Stanley Pines, awake finally at eight a.m. ready for the captain's orders. He lumbered through the tattered kitchen and blindly threw open the doors of his grungy refrigerator, moving aside a couple things that could actually make a good healthy breakfast and instead grasping a full gallon of milk from near the back. Tilting his head back, the old man guzzled the entire plastic container in little under fifteen seconds while his awed great nephew stared back with an open mouth.

When he was finished, he let out a loud breath, tossing the canister back behind him into the sink with a hacking cough. He caught the stare from his nephew and scratched the back of his butt, gesturing to the sink. "Gah... we're outta milk."

"Good morning everyone!" A jovial Stanford Pines greeted as he entered the morning room. Giving a curious glance to a sleeping Soos in the corner, he approached Dipper excitedly.

"So what's the plan, Captain?" He asked, clamping a six-fingered hand on his great nephew's shoulder. The young man smiled, putting a hand up to signal his uncle to wait while he finished his breakfast. Finishing with a gulp after a while that stretched at his throat, he stood up, pushing the seat back and looking at half of his team.

"Today, we're going to find ourselves a Mothman. But first, we have to assemble the team."

Stan crossed his arms irritably. "And who decided to make you captain, pipsqueak?"

Dipper shrugged, making his way to the living room and leaving his dirty bowl on the table. "I don't know. You guys were the ones who suggested it. I would be perfectly fine with being head of operations or lieutenant, but I guess captain's fine for now..."

"The only leads towards the culprit are laced with doubt, but Miss Chamberlain believes the creature was not a bear."

Dipper sat cross-legged on the shag carpet of the living room, his chin being supported by his hands as he fell deeper and deeper into thought. Onscreen was another depiction of what could only be described, in his mind, as a Mothman. The prototypical eyes denounced it as anything but, and the curled-in wings could only be added to the list as a dead giveaway.

He began to tune Jimenez out and formulate a plan. Mumbling out loud, he continued. "So basically, Wendy and I are gonna go to the market where the incident happened to take some clues first. I'm pushing off the expedition until tomorrow, because I'm not really sure we're prepared. Not only that, but we don't really know much about this creature anyway, and we probably should if we're gonna wage war on it."

"Agreed." Stanford added from behind him. "This recent string of sightings leads me to believe the creature may be the worst type yet. All that I've dealt with myself are the Prophet Mothmen, simple omens of ill fate. Mere annoyances. But these seem to be more malevolent in nature. Look at the evidence: so far they've killed an officer, attacked Gwendolyn's truck, and... knocked over some fruit..."

He seemed to realize at that moment that the last sighting wasn't really much of an 'attack' as it was a disturbance, but he shrugged it off and continued. "I still believe the two attacks and the murder are enough to call this creature an ill-willed demon. Don't you think, Gwendolyn?"

The redhead across the room wore a deep frown as she crossed her arms. "Don't call me Gwendolyn." She quipped.

"But, dude," Soos piped up from the couch, "what are you going to do at the site of these attacks? It's not like, it's gonna be there or anything. Just waiting to be interviewed by the newspaper. 'Uh, yeah, I attacked these places. I just really hate pepple-people for no apparent reason.'"

Dipper pointed a finger. "That's exactly why we're going to take notes. There has to be something about these three things that is causing the Mothman to attack; something that makes these things so evil in its eyes. Or maybe it's just bloodthirsty. We don't know. But Wendy and I will try to get all that we can from this adventure."

"Quick question." Stan raised his hand from the old recliner. "Why are you going with Wendy and not just going alone? She's not a lumberjack in the town, Dipper."

Dipper felt heat rise in his cheeks, and he couldn't make eye contact with Wendy. "I, uh, y'know, she's..."

Stan smiled, content with his miniature victory. The older woman, however, laughed, walking by him and punching his shoulder. "It's okay, dude. I'm a pretty cool person after all."

The only thing he could do was sit back and stare at the wall for a few minutes. Now he had two big mysteries he had to solve.

* * *

His old sedan rumbled up to the front of the convenience store with a spraying of gravel back onto the hardly-paved town road. As he got out, he took a look around the devastation. The place had apparently never been picked up, as various fruits and vegetables were strewn everywhere with the carelessness of an imbecile.

The slam of the car door next to him brought him back to the reality of the situation. He was not here to simply gaze at the destruction the Mothman caused, he was there to take notes and clues regarding the physical aspects of the creature and what it would take to stop it. If it was going to keep wrecking the town and the citizens inside it, it must be stopped as soon as possible.

He walked over to an overturned kiosk that apparently had been used to sell apples. A large mark caught his eye. On one side of the stall, deep ridges had been torn into the sides near the bottom. They seemed oddly bird-like in appearance, having three distinct 'toes' that tore into the side. By the placement, near the bottom, Dipper concluded that the claws must have been on the feet of the creature.

"What do you see, Dipper?" Wendy asked, checking out some of the strewn fruit.

"Looks like the claws of an owl." Dipper noted aloud as he referenced a picture from his iPhone. The claw markings from a barn owl on some old barn timber looked nearly identical to the markings left on the kiosk.

"So we're dealing with an overgrown owl?" Her voice was suddenly closer, and she was leaning over him. Feeling her touch the side of his head and right shoulder, he couldn't help but get nervous.

"Uhm, yeah." He gestured to the picture. "Though probably not exactly."

She laughed. "Sir Dippingsauce, you sure have a way with words. What's the problem? You've never been this close to a girl before?"

He shoved her off, laughing a bit and red from embarrassment. "I'm eighteen, Wendy. God."

He returned his focus back to the marks and brought out his camera. "But yeah. I definitely need to take some of these pictures back to Ford. We'll need to analyze these more, considering all I see are oversized owl claws."

She nodded, taking another look. "These are definitely oversized, though. I've seen some big owls, but these are nothing like the ones I've seen outside my house. And trust me, I've seen some pretty weird crap outside my house."

Turning around, the young woman walked around the police zone with a keen eye. Moving by, she caught a glimpse of something underneath a rotted cantaloupe. With squinted eyes and a locked jaw, she set the green piece of fruit aside and took note of the subject underneath.

It was a rather large pile of dark grey fuzz, about the size of a softball, clumped together and hardened. There were splotches of a dark red substance that seemed to be holding the whole thing together, and it smelled horrid. Dipper appeared by her side, rubbing his chin.

He hummed in thought. "If this is an overgrown owl we're talking about, this might be a rather large owl pellet."

Wendy shook her head. "No way, man. This doesn't look like any owl pellet I've ever seen. Look closer, it looks like some down that came off of it that's been stuck together with blood or something."

After looking closer, Dipper finally caught the metallic scent of human blood. He turned and almost wretched when he realized that the fur-like covering probably came from the Mothman itself.

"It's not covered in bile or anything, so it can't be something the thing regurgitated." Wendy examined, using her skills from law school in practice. "It probably is just some clumped together fur that came off when it attacked these stands."

Dipper breathed heavily, sitting down on the ground back to back with the kneeling woman. "But it's clumped together with blood..."

"Yes...?" Wendy turned slightly, confused by his statement.

"Whose blood is it?" Dipper asked rhetorically. His wide eyes told her the whole story. Durland must have put up a damn good fight before he died.

Wendy took off the hat that previously belonged to Dipper, holding it over her chest for a second before gesturing to the clump. "You, uh, gonna take that, Dip?"

He nodded, rushing over to the car and returning a few seconds later with a ziploc bag. Somewhat unskillfully and with a stick, he quickly and disgustedly shoved the matted down into the bag and zipped it up, taking a deep breath he had abstained from while he was taking the sample.

"We'd better go." Wendy noted, gesturing to the sheriff's car down the road. Blubs would probably not be too fond of the two young adults messing around a legitimate crime site.

Silently and somberly, the two made their way back to the car. Opening his door, Dipper caught a glance of a light in the brush on the far side of the convenience store. He shrugged it off. If anything, it wouldn't be the Mothman. All of the sightings of the Mothman had been either in the dark or at dusk.

Pulling out of the cracked parking lot, almost losing a wheel to a rather large pothole, the two started the short trip back towards the Mystery Shack. The sun was now almost at full height in the sky, and Dipper's wristwatch beamed a steady 10:30 back.

"So what do you think, Mr. Holmes?" Wendy asked, twirling her hair around in her hand from the passenger seat. "Any connections to the other attacks?"

He tapped the steering wheel uneasily. "No, not really. We may have to wait for another attack. As much as I'd hate to say it, that might be our only way to find a pattern."

Her frown matched his as she leaned back in the chair. Groaning with irritation, she swung her arms out behind the seat and lay limp. Dipper would have laughed if it was appropriate, but at the particular moment the two were feeling more discouraged and confused then they were humorous.

She looked so good when her hair was blowing in the wind.

* * *

The reunion with the rest of the team back home was short lived and unremarkable. Wendy had immediately taken to the couch, claiming a lack of rest recently being her cause of sleepiness. Soos hadn't minded, though, taking the first tour of the day through the museum part of the house. Since the apocalypse, Gravity Falls had become more of a supernatural hub than it had become a tourist trap. The same could be said for the Mystery Shack itself, as actual attractions had become options to the man-child operating the Shack.

With Stan snoring loudly in the recliner in the living room, Wendy sleeping on the couch next to him (somehow), and Ford taking the basement, Dipper was forced to move his operation upstairs to his room. It didn't take him long to convert half of the room into a crime development laboratory, with different pictures of Mothmen sightings throughout history being compared to Ford's rough sketches of the beasts on a pin board. Pieces of string connected different articles of news pieces, some from Gravity Falls recently, others from Point Pleasant. Notes scribbled frantically by the young theorist hung next to the bag of down that was also pinned to the board.

The ringmaster leaned back in his rolling office chair with a huff. All this information and he couldn't find any leads as to a connection between the attacks. Neither the attacks recently in Gravity Falls or the sightings in West Virginia seemed to have any connections; they all seemed to spawn from random situations.

A knock came from the door. Sighing, Dipper turned to it. "Yes?"

"It's Stanford." The voice came back, seeming slightly worried. Dipper's expression lifted to one of concern.

"Come in."

The old scientist opened the door, closing the door behind him. He and his sciencey-folk had a thing of keeping to themselves, and he knew that firsthand. The first thing he noticed was that Dipper had reconstructed his board. With a sad smile, he sat down on the bed to take it all in.

"You've dived headfirst into this, haven't you?" He asked, tone soft and almost uncharacteristic of the brash intellectual.

Dipper swiveled around, laughing slowly. "Yeah. I guess I have, haven't I?"

His great uncle fiddled with his six-fingered hands as he stared down at the floor. "Actually, Dipper, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Dipper tilted his head, confused.

Ford looked up. "Maybe you should take a break. You've been up here for hours."

Dipper raised an eyebrow, checking the clock. It read back four in the afternoon, almost taunting him with his obsession with the current mystery.

"Aww, crap!" He yelled, jokingly. "I missed lunch?!"

Stanford offered nothing more than a sad smile. "I understand how much mysteries and science mean to you, Dipper, but you came here for family. Didn't you?"

The young man nodded, agreeing silently. That was the main reason why he had come to Gravity Falls. He'd felt that he'd been estranged from his family for so long that getting to see them was the main priority. He wasted to spend time with them. Now he felt guilty, because the first thing he'd done when he arrived back in town was dive headfirst into another mystery that didn't really involve his family. Sure, it was for the good of the town, but it wasn't really for the good of his family. Not only his family, but also for Wendy and Soos, whom he felt were family already. He'd already referred to Soos as his cousin in many conversations at school, and Wendy... was family for different reasons.

He felt a six-fingered hand on his shoulder. "Dipper."

He raised his head, realizing he had been staring at the ground for the last minute as he thought about it. "Come on downstairs with us. We're having a conversation about 'stupid stuff', I believe Lee put it."

The young man grinned. He loved his family so much.

"And be quick," the old man noted as he opened the door on his way out. Catching Dipper's attention, he formed a scarily mischievous grin. "Wendy misses you."

Dipper had never seen his great uncle run as fast as he did when he was being chased down a stairwell.

* * *

"...but her aim is getting better!"

The five people in the room had to keep themselves from laughing at the poor man instead of with Stanley. The room collectively sighed with discontent instead, deciding to move on from the embarrassing attempt at a joke. Stan was left staring at the floor in a desperate attempt to reconsider his comedy routine.

The room was dark, all except for an old lantern Ford had brought up from the basement and the dying evening sunlight streaming in from the high placed window above the recliner.

Wendy, sitting next to Dipper, had become cold (somehow) and had retrieved a blanket. The younger scientist in the family really wished she wouldn't lean on his shoulder for his sake, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. Ford was nose deep in a book, probably about some scientific thing. Soos had passed out a long while ago, long before Dipper had resurfaced from his lair in his room. Melody was the same, except she had retreated to the recliner, leaving the two spry old men to the carpet floor.

Dipper sat cross legged with Wendy on his shoulder. He had some serious thinking to do about his feelings for her. The thing was, he'd always thought of her as an older sister in their relationship. Well, except for that first summer. But now, things were changing for the both of them. She looked much older now, and he only just started to consider how much of a woman she actually was now. Much more developed than she was back in 2012. She was so... beautiful now. Not that she never was... just now it was much more noticeable.

Subconsciously, he leaned his head on her shoulder. Her hair was so soft. He sighed outwardly. He tried retracing his steps back to when he first started to rekindle his embers with the woman. He was left empty-handed after about five minutes of thought.

"Could it be that... I've never lost feelings?" He mumbled quietly.

"Hmm? Wuzzat?" His Grunkle asked. Face flushing red, the eighteen-year-old's head jutted up and off of the scarlet locks that previously held his head.

"Uh, um, just thinking about the Mothman and what we're going to do about it."

Stan shook his head softly. "Y'know what, kid? If you ask me, you probably just need to chill out for today and refocus tomorrow. Just don't think about it until you wake up tomorrow, and then you can figure out what to do. But as for now..."

He gestured towards the woman in the crook of his neck. "I'd suggest you figure out what to do with that woman. She's gonna be here all summer, you know. Might as well try to do something."

Dipper, instead of blushing, cocked his head confusedly. "Uh... Grunkle Stan?"

His great uncle raised his hands in defense. "Now, listen up. I know what you've thought about her six years ago. But listen up: now, it's not too big of a deal. Even later on, three years is nothing. Your father married your mother, and he's three years younger than her. It wasn't a big deal at 22 and 25, was it?"

Dipper rubbed his shoulder, giving a glance towards the girl on his shoulder. "I guess it's not too weird anymore..."

"And trust me, kid." Dipper turned his attention to his great uncle. "Trust me when I say that she's missed you more than she missed Mabel. Guaranteed."

Dipper sighed, removing a stray strand of crimson hair from her sleeping face. "I've got other things to think about Grunkle Stan. But... there's more than one reason I'm here. And it's not for that damned Mothman."

* * *

 **Okay! So we've got some more character development in this chapter. Wendip for those who don't like Wendip. The next one is entitled "The Bridge"—so get ready, fam. Time to bring out the fan and chimpanzees.**


End file.
